


Grá Flowers

by Sadincae



Series: Hadreon [2]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Dungeons & Dragons - All Media Types
Genre: Agender Character, Dungeons & Dragons 5th Edition, Dungeons & Dragons Campaign, Dungeons & Dragons Character Backstory, Original Character(s), Other, Sidhe, dungeons and dragons homebrew - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:01:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23531992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sadincae/pseuds/Sadincae
Summary: They own a small flower shop at the edge of the city, have a relatively uninteresting life, and rarely go out of their way to talk to others unless it’s necessary. Anything they’d ever want to learn can either be gained from experience, books, or a little eavesdropping. People were tiring and the quiet was nice, relatively. So why is it that despite all that he would take notice and gain such an interest in them?
Relationships: Albion/Brïs
Series: Hadreon [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1660408
Kudos: 2





	Grá Flowers

**Author's Note:**

> This is an excerpt of sorts I expanded upon from my Saturday homebrew campaign which takes place in a world called Hadreon.  
> It's important to know that Sidhe in this word are spirits from Tír na nÓg, which is separate but connected to Hadreon proper. They also come in two varieties: Winter who are subdued and don't really feel emotions well, and Summer who embody emotions to the extreme.

Albion's life running a flower shop was for the most part, purposely uneventful by design. The main source of something different, something  _ interesting  _ was the few occasions where they could make time to go to auditoriums. It was here that they could hear the songs, stories and other such things by the Orators, lore seekers of their people. They would tell of the treachery of Morgan, or tales of Cu Cathlainn, or how the Summer Courts’ most trusted confidant Lancealot betrayed them by absconding off with another noble, starting a war in an attempt to overthrow the Summer Court.

After listening to one of the Orators tell of Lancelot and his execution by a Sidhe by the name of Dilceacht, they made their way home in the relative quiet. Moments after they stepped into their shop, ready to close for the night and lock things down, they heard the chime of a crystal bell at the door.

"Hello, are you still selling flowers?" a jovial voice called in.

"I was just about to close for the night, but I suppose I could stay open a moment longer,” Albion replied, as a green Summer Sidhe stepped inside. “What is it that you're wanting?”

“I was just wondering if you had any flowers from the Summerlands.” He smiled. “I need them as a gift.”

They nodded. “Well then, yes of course. I have flowers from all over Tír na nÓg so I’m certain I’ll have exactly what you’re needing.”

“Would you happen to have the Grá flower?”

“Let me see.” Albion held up a hand, gesturing to the other Sidhe to wait, and they walked into the other room of their shop where they kept the bulk of their flowers. After glancing across all of them, their gaze lands on the correct one: it was unique in appearance, appearing to be two flowers intertwined within one another, but they shared a single stem. They grabbed one and took it to the front to show their customer. “This is what you’re wanting, correct?”

The Summer Sidhe brightens. “Ah, yes, yes! Thank you!” He took it, meeting their eyes. “Ah, what is your name?”

“I am Albion.” They paused. “What is.. your name?”

“Ah, Brïs,” he replied, smiling wider. “I, ah, saw you at the auditorium. Are you also just as intrigued by the stories they share as I am?”

Albion tried to return the smile, albeit a rather uncomfortable one. This was the most they’ve needed to have a conversation with anyone all day and were visibly exhausted. “Yes. I quite enjoy any stories I can come across. I enjoy learning.”

“Interesting.” If he noticed their slight exasperation, he didn’t indicate it in his as of yet unchanged expression. “I happen to quite enjoy learning too. Perhaps,” he continued, “would you mind accompanying me to another of the Orators, Nuada’s, session?”

Albion paused for a moment, considering his offer. It had been some time since they’d gone with another to listen to the Orators, and although they didn’t know this Sidhe very well, didn’t see a true reason to refuse. They nodded, answering, “Yes, I should have the time.”

Brïs seemed satisfied with that answering, changing the subject. “So, how much is this flower?”

“If you’re taking me to listen to the Orators, that will be payment enough.”

“Perfect.” He took a step back, maintaining eye contact. “Well, good luck with closing the shop I suppose.”

Albion nodded. “Yes, of course. And I hope the recipient of your gift enjoys it.”

“I hope so as well.”

Brïs then leaves, and Albion is again alone. They stand still for a moment in quiet contemplation at the interaction they’d just had. It was peculiar for certain, but with a shake of their head, their focus went to their duties. They finish closing up the shop, ensure the flowers are all in good order, and make their way home for the night, the conversation with Brïs pushed aside.

* * *

Four days later, around 9 at night, the Summer Sidhe again showed up, the crystalline chime ringing through the shop alerting Albion to his presence. “You still up for Nuada’s session?” he asked as Albion rounded the corner into the main room.

They give a brief nod and say, “Yes. Yes, just give me a moment to close up the shop.”

“Would you like some help?” Brïs offered.

Albion rapidly shook their head, “Oh no, that’s quite alright.” They glanced around the room, not meeting Brïs’ gaze. “I can handle it.”

“Alrighty then.”

“I’ve done it many times,” they continued, completely speaking over Brïs. “I really don’t need the assistance.”

Brïs chuckled, amused. “Of course.”

“If you’ll just give me a moment.” They rush around, straightening flowers and putting things away as Brïs watches on.  _ Why does he always seem to be smiling about everything? _ Albion thought absently to themselves as they finished up, approaching him properly. “Yes, um, I’m ready now. Are we off to the session then?”

“Absolutely.” He went outside, holding the door open for them, waiting for them to follow. “Come with me.”

As the pair made their way towards the auditorium, Brïs broke the silence that had grown. “So tell me about yourself. Your name is Albion you said, correct?”

“Yes. And you said yours was Brïs?”

“Yes.” Another moment, and he continued, “So what brought you to do flowers? Usually that’s... I understand the Court usually decides these things, but tell me, what interests you about them?”

They take a moment to think on it, mulling it over in their mind, before replying slowly, “I enjoy seeing... their different shapes and colors. How they react to different climates, different growing conditions. I think...” They pause again. “I think... they’re interesting, there’s an odd beauty to them that I quite enjoy a lot.”

Brïs nods, and Albion returns a small smile to him. “Yes, there is. It’s quite interesting to see the different flowers of the Summerlands and the Winterlands. Seeing the bark of the Summer plants, and the crystal of the Winter. It’s so interesting, is it not?”

The Winter Sidhe’s usually rather emotionless expression seemed to grow softer, something almost happy glowing within it. “Yes! I find your land’s flowers very fascinating in that way.”

“And I with yours.”

There was another long moment of silence between them, filled only with the sounds of other Sidhe going about their lives, muddled conversations and clatter of things moving.

“I imagine running a flower shop is rather quiet?” Brïs said, obviously wanting to keep Albion talking and the silence gone.

“It’s... uneventful for certain. I try to find things to keep myself occupied when I’m not at the shop, such as going to the auditorium or other things that pique my interest, but otherwise it’s... quiet.” The small bit of warmth that had once been there was completely gone, expression again void of emotion.

“Well,” Brïs continued on, “hopefully this piques your interest. Ah... We’ll see.”

Albion turned to look at him intensely. “I’m sure it will. I nearly always find them enjoyable so I don’t see why this would be different.”

“Perfect,” Brïs said. The auditorium was now within sight, and Albion was relieved. It wasn’t that they didn’t  _ enjoy  _ talking with Brïs, but they were ready to not have to think about responses and just spend their time listening with no expectation of conversation. “Well, let’s be on our way then!” Brïs’ voice interrupted Albion’s internal musings.

The two made their way inside. Nuada’s story today was about Samhain’s raiding of the Will o’ Wisps, and bringing them into the cities of the Sidhe. He went to every door, tricking them into joining the Will o’ Wisps, to become one with them. She spoke of how it is a common practice every year to bring homage to those who suffered this terrible, tragic event, and how some Sidhe will go around and check on each Sidhe by knocking on their door, although some will use this time to scare their friends and play tricks, and get sweets to give to the next house they visit.

“Hopefully this didn’t dissuade you from seeing another one I hope?” Brïs asked once they had left the auditorium after Nuada’s story was concluded.

“Oh, oh no,” Albion shook their hand, waving a hand at him dismissively. “I will admit, I have at least heard some of the tales relating to this event before, but it was still very interesting.” They paused. “I enjoyed hearing it,” they assured, meeting Brïs’ unsure look.

Brïs gave the Winter Sidhe a nod and a smile. “Good, good. Um…” He glanced away from Albion’s gaze. “Maybe… another time then?”

“...When do you have in mind?” they inquired cautiously.

“Well, maybe not to the auditorium,” he admitted, “but perhaps to, um… I know of a… I do work as a city guard.” Albion blinked, frowning slightly. “I know of a place outside of town that I found while patrolling. It’s a pond, it’s quite beautiful. Would you like to join me?”

Albion stares intensely at him, thoughts racing through their head as they both stood there looking at one another. It takes them longer than usual to reply, trying to gauge his expression, what his motivations might be. Brïs simply smiles at them the entire time, making it nearly impossible to tell exactly how he feels as he  _ always  _ seems to be smiling.

“I… accept,” they finally reply after a moment. They sound a little hesitant, still unsure of the reasoning behind his request. They hadn’t been asked for something like this before. It was new. Yes, they had gone to the auditorium with those they might consider “friends”, but leaving the city to somewhere completely unknown to them? As much as their hesitance gnawed at them, their curiosity ate at them even more.

Brïs, sensing their uncertainty said, “If it does anything to ease your anxiety, I  _ do  _ know of a unique flower there that grows near the pond. I figure you might be interested in getting some of those for your flower shop.

Albion immediately lights up a little bit more at the mention of new flowers, relaxing significantly. “Oh! Is… is that so?” Suddenly they feel they understand his motivations; he knew they like flowers, and he was taking them to new ones. It was as simple as that. Why had they worried so? “Well then, I will absolutely join you for this. When do you intend on going as I’m sure that you’re quite busy, being a guard and all?”

“Perhaps on Nullsday? I’ll be off duty at that time, so we could go out during the day if you would like.”

“I have all the free time that is needed on that day.” Given that it was their day of rest, it wasn’t even a concern.

“Perfect!” Brïs smile widened even more. “That’ll be perfect then.” Albion nodded in agreement, beginning to walk and take their leave, but Brïs interrupted, taking a step after them. “Would you like me to escort you home, or would you prefer to go yourself?”

Albion hesitated, stopping abruptly to turn and face him.

Brïs continued, “Who knows, there might just be a Will o’ Wisp along the way.”

The Winter Sidhe bristled at that, earning a chuckle from the other Sidhe. “Y-You didn’t have to mention that. You know that, right?”

“I’m perfectly aware.”

He was perfectly amused by this and Albion knew it, but after hearing again about the Sidhe who had fallen victim to them not minutes before now, they shot Brïs an unhappy look but said nothing.

“Well, if you decide you want to go on your own then,” Brïs began to walk off, his turn to wave a dismissive hand.

“No!” Albion interjected, but Brïs continued as if he hadn’t heard them, still walking away.

“Going off without a handsome guard to accompany you... I understand, but it would be such a shame--”

They stormed over, grabbing him by the arm, but realizing what they’d done instantly pulled back, still frowning intensely at the bemused Summer Sidhe.

“If you are going to bring up something as dangerous as Will o’ Wisps,” they said evenly, but obviously unhappy, “I would assume you’d escort me home.”

“Of course.” Brïs, ever smiling, gave a small bow to the other, who only frowned even more.

They walked in silence as Brïs took Albion home, not a single Will o’ Wisp in sight. Albion spent much of the time glancing around at any little motion that caught their attention, completely on edge, not helped at all by Brïs’ clear amusement at their expense. Their utter relief was obvious when they finally saw their home.

“Well, I will see you on Nullsday then,” Brïs said once they got to their door. “Sleep well, Albion.”

“And you as well,” they replied with a nod. They gave a thin smile, adding, “Don’t get attacked by the Will o’ Wisps that are very clearly around.”

He scoffed at that, hand on his hip. “Oh, I’m sure I could fight them off if it came down to it.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” Albion continued to prod. “You wouldn’t make a very good guard if you couldn’t, would you?”

“I imagine I wouldn’t,” he agreed with a laugh. Afterwards he smiled, voice quieter. “Well, goodnight.”

Albion again nods at him, watching for a while as he walks away, musing to themselves about the day. This was all very strange. They weren’t sure why Brïs was suddenly encroaching on their life, wanting to spend time with them, but their curiosity was getting the best of them. They wanted to see what would happen next, learn more about him and his reasons for all of this. They finally went inside once he was out of sight, turning in for the night, thoughts of Will o’ Wisps still lingering on the edges of their thoughts before they went to sleep.

* * *

The next few days are uneventful as they generally were, until finally it was Nullsday. It’s around midday when Brïs finally comes around.

“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting,” he says once Albion answers the door.

“I figured you had things that needed taking care of before we were to leave,” they replied with a slight shrug. “I had some small things myself, so don’t concern yourself over it.”

“Indeed, I had to get things ready. Had to make sure there were no Will o’ Wisps around.” A mischievous smile.

Albion makes a face, recalling a few nights ago. “Still on about those, are you?” they ask dryly.

“They’re so scary,” he said, clearly poking fun, causing Albion to sigh heavily. “Well, let’s be on our way then if you’re ready.”

Albion quickly grabs a basket that had been prepared by the door to carry flowers they intended on bringing back with them. “Yes, of course I’m ready.”

“Alrighty then.”

They both make their way out of town, Brïs giving a nod to the other guards as they pass by. The two only walk for about 10 minutes before the Summer Sidhe stops them at the crystalline forest.

“You’ll wanna be careful here,” he warned, and for once he wasn’t smiling. “There’s quite a few of those crystal caits around. As cute as some of them are,” his smile returned, “they are quite dangerous, I promise you this is well worth it, however.”

“Well,” they said, glancing around, “as long as you’re not taking me out here to get attacked by them we should be fine, yes?”

Brïs gasped, hand grasping at his chest. “I am  _ offended _ !”

“I’m not implying you would,” Albion said defensively. “I’m just saying that as long as that’s not the intention then we are fine.”

“I am  _ hurt _ !” Brïs continued on, turning away from the other Sidhe. “Distraught!”

“You,” Albion said with a sigh, “are dramatic.”

“Indeed,” Brïs now laughed.

He leads Albion into the forest and they travel for a little longer, and eventually, they walk into a clearing, where there sits a large crystal lake, and beside it is a small picnic. In a basket is some sort of plants from the Summerlands that Albion doesn’t immediately recognize.

“I know you Winter Sidhe don’t need to eat this way,” Brïs said as he walked to where the picnic was set up, sitting down. “It is sometimes enjoyable to do it this way, however. Would you care to sit down with me?” He looks to where Albion is standing, expectant.

This was nothing like they were expecting, and they hesitate still standing at the edge of the clearing, not daring to come inside it any more.

“I promise you it’s quite enjoyable,” Brïs urged, gesturing for them to come over.

“I do not doubt that,” Albion said slowly, eyes narrow in suspicion. “What I’m questioning is what is this for?”

“What do you mean?”

Their gaze flits between the picnic to Brïs, back and forth. Then, away from both, once they see the garden of flowers beyond the picnic.

“I very rarely have had anyone invite me to things,” that answered, tearing their eyes away from the flowers and forcing themselves to look Brïs in the eye.

“Their loss,” he said.

“And when I  _ have  _ been invited,” Albion continued on, “it has only been to the auditorium. Never anything else. Never outside the city, to… to eat things, or see flowers. Nothing like that, ever. This,” they gesture to everything around them, before looking intensely again at Brïs, “this is beyond anything that anyone has ever wanted to do with me.”

Granted, they know they possibly could have had previous opportunities to do other things with other Sidhe, but they prefered to not go out of their way to ask, and others rarely reached out in return. They had duties to take care of, and when they didn’t, they mostly tried to keep to themself. It was too much energy to constantly seek others out. So why was this Sidhe, someone they hardly even know, so eager and insistent on continuously doing things with them?

“Why?” they finished. “And why  _ me _ ? What is your motive?”

“Because,” Brïs’ smile was less teasing and gentler now as he spoke, “you interest me, Albion. You are so curious and yet you just run a flower shop, something not common in the Winterlands.”

“Well I... I just enjoy it!” They grew defensive again, folding their arms. “It’s what the Court wanted me to do as my purpose. Who am I to question what the Court wants me to do?”

“But if you do not enjoy it you can request.” He frowned.

“Are you implying I don’t enjoy it?” Albion’s tone was much harsher.

“No,” he assured, raising his hands, “I’m not saying you do not. In fact, I imagine you quite enjoy the quiet and solitude. Quite a bit even, judging your reaction.”

“I do.”

“But sometimes,” he continued, carefully choosing his words, “it is good to have someone to enjoy it with. Like I said, I brought you here so you could enjoy the view of the stars above from the lake and also to get you some of those flowers that I was sure you would love.”

Albion again turns to look at the flowers, stance relaxing. They nod, saying nothing.

“And if we so happen to have some food while we’re here,” Brïs picked up one of the strange plants, a fruit, from the basket, before throwing it back in, “well, even better.”

“Yes,” they said softly, still staring at the flowers. “I suppose so.”

A moment passes, and while they are still hesitant, they walk over but don’t sit, standing in an awkward silence.

“Sit, sit,” Brïs urged. “Have you taken form yet today?”

They shake their head. “No, I haven’t had a need to.”

“Well now’s a perfectly good time.” He shifts, his usually vague form now solidifying as he focuses on it, and they can now get a better view of him. He has short hair that sticks up funny, and it seems as though he prefers a smaller form than other Sidhe would take.

After another moment, Albion relents and shifts into their own more solid form as well. They’re significantly taller, and much more dull than his bright green hues.

As they sit down, Brïs points at the flowers which were growing mere feet away. “As I understand from my buddies at the watch, these flowers have a certain property about them. They make it easier for some of our spellcasters to cast any fire and lightning magics.”

Albion frowns as they try to think of what the flower might be based on that description, but they don’t recall every hearing or reading of it anywhere.

“When they’re not used for spellcasting,” he continued, “they have a, as I understand, they have a ‘zing’ to them when you hold them. It is quite unique.”

Albion’s stoic expression turns to an almost smile, eye narrowing slightly. “A ‘zing’ you say.”

“I am not as smart as some people are,” he defended, “and unfortunately do not know exactly the way to describe it, but if you do not trust me I’ll grab one first. I do know that some plants can be dangerous.”

The Winter Sidhe folded their hands, resting their chin upon them, smile growing ever so slightly. “If you would, I very much want to see this ‘zing’ as you so aptly described it.”

He stands and goes over to grab one of the flowers. “Oh,” he says, sounding almost disappointed as he picks one of them. “Well, maybe they’re AH--!” He let out a pained yelp and collapsed to the ground, paralyzed.

Albion’s smile vanishes, and they lean over, asking, “Are you okay?”

There is no response, and for a moment, they wonder if perhaps he’s again trying to mess with them, but they aren’t completely certain on that. They wait a few moments and, seeing no movement, inch over and poke him hard. The moment they touch him they feel a slight shock, and Brïs jolts back, scrambling to sit up once more, eyes wide.

“Well, that was certainly interesting and I should’ve brought my gloves.” He rapidly shakes his head, giving a distasteful look to the flowers.

“I’m very glad I made  _ you  _ do that first,” Albion said, watching him blankly as he scooted away from the flowers and back to his previous spot.

“I heard ‘zing’, not paralyzation,” he grumbled to himself.

Albion’s eyes shift from looking at Brïs to the flowers, and an urge creeps into their mind, growing so loud they can hardly ignore it. Slowly they go to reach for the flowers.

“Are you sure?” Brïs asks in disbelief, reaching to stop them, but pulls back when Albion speaks.

“I  _ have  _ told you that I’m interested in learning things, yes?” They look back at Brïs, expressionless. “That includes knowing exactly how it feels for these, especially if I’m to sell them to customers.”

“Alright then,” Brïs sighs, throwing his hands up in defeat. “That is fair. Your crucible then.”

“Just make sure no crystal caits attack us, will you?” they jabbed at him.

“Of course.”

They again go to reach forward, briefly hesitating before going all in and grabbing a couple in one handful. There wasn’t anything wrong, and they again wondered if perhaps Brïs really had been messing with them after all, but no sooner had that thought crossed their mind did they feel a powerful jolt go through them and they collapsed onto the ground, completely unable to do anything.

“Well then.” He goes over and pokes them, earning him a similar shock to the one Albion had received when poking him. “Fuck, that hurts! Are you okay?”

“I shouldn’t be surprised,” Albion says from their spot on the ground, “but that caught me slightly off guard, even with seeing what happened to you.”

“Oh!” Brïs has a moment of realization, and then smiles guiltily. “I realized what I fucked up now. You’re supposed to take the flowers off the stems before you can touch them safely. We grabbed them stems and all.”

Albion turns their head awkwardly to face him from the ground. “You couldn’t have remembered that earlier?” they asked incredulously.

“I do not have the keen mindedness of some of my fellows, I’m sorry.” He leans back, hands up in front of him, looking even more guilty.

“Clearly!” They pushed themselves up off the ground, sitting back up again. “I would feel that would be a very important detail to remember, but perhaps that’s just me.”

“Yes,” he laughed nervously, unable to meet their gaze.

Albion continues to stare at him for what seems like an eternity, but finally they turn away, going back over to the flowers to pick them correctly this time around. They seem to pop in their hands as they hold them, but not nearly enough to cause any actual pain this time. As they turn one of them over in their hands, they mumble to themselves, “Oh that is fascinating.”

“Oh yes. I also understand that some of my fellows have tried to  _ eat  _ them. They said they had a weird taste? Or a weird feeling in their mouths.”

They look up from the flower, and give Brïs a slightly mischievous look. “Oh do they now?”

“Uh, yes?” He again sounds nervous.

They hold it out to him. “Then would you care to…  _ show  _ me?”

He sighs, and Albion wonders if he’s suddenly regretting offering to take them here now. “Alright, I suppose.” He takes the flower and pops it right into his mouth.

Given both Sidhe’s transparent forms, even with it more solidified in this state, Albion can still see the flower within his mouth sitting there, little sparks coming off of it.

“Ahhh this is great and amazing and... fuck.”

“Tell me, is that sarcastic?” They sit with their arms hugging their knees, face mostly obscured, but there is a hint of… something in their eyes. “Or is that genuine? Because I  _ really  _ need to know.”

“It is completely sarcastic.” He doesn’t even attempt to hide his displeasure at this point. He continues mostly talking to himself, “This is awful. Why do they do this? How does this help anything, at all?” He spat the vile thing out.

Albion didn’t doubt that it’s awful, but wanting to make a point, they took another of the flowers they’d picked and put it in their own mouth much to the objection of Brïs, but it was too late, and they try to maintain a completely blank face as they stare down the other Sidhe. He was right: it feels awful. Their jaw feels like it is popping constantly.

“Albion--”

“I need to know.”

“...Yes?”

“I need to know what happens, and when.”

After about a minute, the flower completely dissolves, and the popping finally ceases.

“Alright,” they said, rubbing their jaw. “So it lasts that long. Good to know.”

“Yes… I do not want to do that again. I would however,” he reaches into the basket, picking up one of the fruits, “like to have one of these falapples. Would you like one?”

“As long as they’re not unpleasant like the flower was,” they reply.

“I promise you none of them have any sort of effect like that,” he assures. “These actually taste good.”

Albion grabs one of them, turning it over curiously, pressing their fingers into it to test the rigidity of it. It was small, much smaller than the palm of their hand. They watch Brïs, who casually pulls it by the stem, peeling the outer shell off and popping the inside portion into his mouth. They mirror him, and stick the peeled inside into their own mouth. They don’t have a good word to describe the taste, but it wasn’t unpleasant. It was actually quite good.

“That is interesting,” they determine.

“Right?” Brïs seems pleased by their reaction, peeling another for himself. “I’m sure it feels better than the crystals you drain.”

“It is different,” Albion says. “And this is how you get your…”

“Force?” Brïs finishes.

“That is interesting,” they repeat quietly to themselves, eyeing the basket filled to the brim with more fruit. “Do you have… Do you have other things like this then? Or is this it?”

“Oh, of course! I have much more.” He rummages around through the basket, pulling out 4 other kinds of fruit that had been buried within.

“Are they all the same though?” Albion asks. “I mean, is the effect the same?”

“You mean do they taste different?” Brïs asked, slightly confused.

“I suppose so?”

“Ah.” He nods. “Yes, I mean, I would hope so!”

“And you... have to always do this?” they ask, frowning slightly,

“Well,” he says, “just as much as you passively drain magic around you, I do the same as well. When we want to actually experience eating and such, we do it this way, yes. Or if we’re especially exhausted, such as when some of our Singers craft their makes, they’ll have to consume things in this way, much like how your Singers drain crystals.”

“It is so strange that we do something so similar and yet your way is so different.” They grow quiet, staring at their hands in their lap, holding another fruit that they turned in their fingers thoughtlessly.

“Indeed,” he agreed.

“I wonder why that is.”

“Could simply be the availability of materials. You have crystals growing all around you.” He gestured. “I mean, look around us! Whereas in the Summerlands, we have plants, pixies, treents and all that. And you have Will o’ Wisps.” He chuckled. “Such dangerous creatures.”

“And yet,” Albion said, giving him a curious look, “you come over here. Why?”

“It’s partially an exchange program,” Brïs explained. “One of the many attempts to improve relations between the Courts, between the people. I come in as a guard of your city, and one of your previous guards is exchanged to go to my city. We’ll live out our lives doing this, to help improve the relations.”

They can’t imagine having to live out their entire life in the Summerlands, outside the realm of their people and their Court. They would do it if the Court asked it of them, but they don’t know if they'd truly like it all that much. “Do you enjoy it over here? Or do you prefer your own lands?”

“Well, it is quite dark over here all the time,” he laughed.

“I wouldn’t really know any differently.”

“That is fair.” He sighed wistfully. “It has its own certain beauty about it, among other things.” He looks at Albion and pauses for longer than they feel is normal, but he eventually continues, “But there are days where I definitely miss the plants of my lands.”

Albion nods, and shrugs. “Well, I have many plants from your lands and you are--”

“I know,” he interupts.

Albion pauses with a brief flicker of a frown before they continue, “And you are always welcome to stop by and see them if you miss them so much.”

“And I fully intend on doing exactly that again.” He shakes his head, smiling widely. “Now, anyway, the other reason why I brought you here, beyond eating and flowers. Look at the lake for a minute. You’ll see why.”

They turn to look at the lake as asked, but give a side glance to Brïs after a moment.

“Keep looking at it,” he encourages.

They nod, and stare into the lake. At first, they don’t understand what it is they’re supposed to be trying to see. A few more moments pass, and just as they’re about to ask why they’re doing this, they see stars start to appear on the surface, and they see the sky above reflected on it. While this wasn’t exactly abnormal under normal circumstances, they quickly realized there was something odd about it. The stars within the reflection moved faster than the ones above them, which they looked up briefly to confirm. They continued watching the lake, and soon after, they realized they could see a light growing larger within it. They then saw all at once a land of plants, of trees and grass. They then saw a hut made out of a tree, formed likely by Singers into a building.

“As I understand,” Brïs said, startling Albion out of their intense observation, “this thing acts as a portal, perhaps? A way to travel between the lands. As much as you can see our lands,” he pointed at the reflection, “we can see yours through an equivalent lake on the other side.”

Albion slowly walks closer to the lake, trying to get a better look from up close.

“Be careful, you don’t want to jump in,” he warned, but there was humor in his tone.

“And what will happen if I do?”

“You’ll hit the crystal and won’t be able to go through.” He paused briefly. “I tried.”

“Have you now?” They turned to look at him over their shoulder.

“Yes,” he said sheepishly.

They continue to approach the edge of the lake, peering curiously into it.

“What you’re seeing is my old home,” Brïs informed them.

“You lived this close to the lake on your side?” they asked.

“No, no as I understand, when someone is looking at the lake from one side, the lake moves depending on the wishes of the viewer. As I am the one looking into the lake, I wanted you to see my home.”

This was so  _ new _ . They tried to think back, if they had ever heard of something like this before, but drew a blank. They kept creeping closer, and closer to the edge, and were now on the very edge of the lake.

Brïs doesn’t go to stop them, but reminds them, “Be careful there. It’d be a shame if you broke the lake.”

“Broke it?” they turn completely around, completely confused.

“I have personally fallen upon it,” Brïs said, “to see what would happen, and I cracked it.”

They peer back into it and now that he’s mentioned this, they do think they see a hairline crack running through close to the edge. “Oh, that’s from you!”

“Yes…” He folds his arms. “Experimentation. Unfortunately, I did not want to continue for fear of losing this.”

They nod, sitting down carefully as close as they dared to the edge, marveling at it. “Yes,” they said, “it would be a shame indeed. I have never heard of anything like this before.”

“I’ve read a little bit about it, enough to learn that it will heal over time.” Albion again nods. “But if it were ever destroyed fully, it won’t ever reform. At least,” he said quietly, “not in this way.”

“So it’s very much unique then.”

“Yes. Probably some ancient Sidhe wizard, from your land or mine, created it for some purpose.”

“Out of curiosity,” Albion said, leaning over to squint into the lake, “who else knows of this?”

“Um… no one else I think.”

They almost fall right into the lake, barely managing to catch themselves. They slowly turn to look at Brïs, eyes wide. “What?”

“Well, that’s actually a lie,” Brïs admitted, “As I said, there’s stories about it, as that’s how I learned about it. But it being here, in this location? Just me. And well,” he laughed lightly, “now you as well.”

“Only us?” They get to their feet, taking a few steps away from the edge.

“Yes?” He appeared slightly confused but was still smiling wide as ever, but it seemed as if he wasn’t sure what to make of their reaction. They look intensely at him. They notice that he appears to be hiding something behind his back.

“ _ Only _ us?” they repeat. “You have only told me about this?”

He nodded, “Yes.”

No, that couldn’t be possible. This had to be him messing with them. He seemed as though he was pretty close to the Sidhe he worked with, he hadn’t even told them? He really hadn’t told anyone else? “Not even the  _ Court _ ?” they pressed.

He shrugged, indifferent. “I imagine the Court already knows about it, so I didn’t feel like there was a need.”

“Why are you showing me this then?”

“Because I find it interesting,” he replied, “and I figured it might be for you as well. No one else knows about this and I thought you could look through it, see the different flowers, see the flowers you sell from the lands they grow within. Maybe see if you could find others that are new. And I could procure them for you.”

They momentarily stumbled over their words before finally able to get out, “Of course I find it interesting, but you could have shown this to anyone.”

“Yes,” he concurs.

They continued, “And they also would have found it interesting I’m sure, regardless of who they were.”

“Perhaps.”

They take a few deliberate steps forward, doubts rushing over them like a flood. He hadn’t told even the Court about this place, and yet he took the time to tell  _ them _ , and more than that,  _ show  _ them. He said it was because they’d find it interesting, but why them specifically? What was so intriguing about them specifically that made him feel the need to do this?

“Why do you find me so interesting? Why would you do this for  _ me _ ?”

His expression was soft. “Because you seem so bored all the time.”

They are silent. Then, their voice louder than usual, “I am not bored all the time, thank you very much!”

“Most of the time.” He looked amused.

“I am not bored  _ most  _ of the time,”

Brïs’ expression turned incredulous.

“It is quiet,” Albion defended. “There is a difference, is there not?”

“There is.” His expression did not change. He didn’t believe them. “I’ll give you that at least. But are you really saying you would not be curious to see what this does?”

They again struggled with words for a moment. “I-I did not say that either, did I?”

“And with this way, you get the best of both worlds, beyond the annoyance of one Summer Sidhe.” He smiled wide, appearing very pleased with himself. Albion was anything but amused, but other than a raised voice, their face betrayed little.

“I also did not say that you were annoying, but if that’s how you view yourself, fine. In any case,” they took another step forward, and another, “I don’t understand.”

He hummed to himself, not meeting their eyes. “Perhaps for the last reason I wanted you to come...”

Brïs pulled out what he had been hiding behind his back: it was the same flower Albion had sold to him about two weeks ago, it was the Grá flower. They froze in their tracks. Suddenly, all the thoughts that had been racing through their head were frozen as well.

He asked, expression again soft, “You know what this means, correct?”

A Sidhe only gives a Grá flower to those they cared so deeply about they didn’t want to ever be without them. It was the same bond the flower shared, with two flowers so intertwined they were joined by one stem, impossible to truly separate. It was a show of everlasting love for another.

“Of… Of course I do.” Everything went from completely frozen in time, to moving much too fast. They felt like they were spinning. “I have to know what… each flower… means… Why do you--” They lost their words, trying to find them desperately. “I thought you were--”

“I would like to give it to you. As a gift.”

Albion goes dead silent, giving up a losing battle against their tongue. All they can do is stare wide eyed, in complete and absolute disbelief.

“I find you so interesting, Albion.” He seems to literally glow with happiness.

They gesture at themself, and Brïs nods.

“Yes, you.”

They managed to force themself to say something,  _ anything _ . “I-I had been under the assumption that you were going to give that to someone else?”

He laughed, which made Albion bristle further. “Good! In that case the ruse worked. I have watched you for some time, I will admit.”

They try to think back, trying to remember seeing him, and in fact they do. They had passed by one another on occasion, but Albion hadn’t thought anything of it at the time. Now that they’re thinking about it, they remember seeing him much more often recently than they had previously.

Suddenly words came out before they could stop them, like a waterfall all at once. “That’s why you were patrolling around then, wasn’t it? You were trying to watch me!”

“Well, originally my patrols were specifically to stay around that area to look out for trouble as you do live quite close to the edge of the city, after all. There could always be dangerous things that come in without us knowing, so you know.” He stopped, and reiterated, “Originally, that was the thing. Until it wasn’t.”

“Until it wasn’t monsters you were looking for,  _ apparently _ .”

“Apparently,” Brïs repeated.

“Unless,” they give a pointed look to the Summer Sidhe, “unless you think I am a dangerous monster. Which I should hope you  _ don’t _ .”

“The fact that you were so scared of Will o’ Wisps convinces me that you’re not.” He catches onto the humor they’re attempting to make out of what was frankly, a rather awkward conversation, at least in Albion’s view.

“Well,” Albion retorts, “maybe terrifying monsters are also afraid of them.” Brïs doesn’t immediately respond, and Albion continues, “Have you maybe considered that?”

Finally, he responds, slowly, “I highly doubt that they would be.”

“Well, you never know until you see it for yourself!”

“Are you saying that I have not?” Brïs is barely able to keep himself from laughing.

Albion opens their mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. What were they doing? What were they saying? “Well,” they eventually stutter out, “i-if you had, you could just have… just have said that, you know?”

He isn’t able to keep from laughing this time. “But it’s so much fun, seeing you get flustered.”

“I am not flustered!” Brïs continues to laugh. “I am  _ not _ !” Brïs only laughs louder, forcing Albion to have to raise their voice further. “I am not flustered! Why would I be flustered after learning that a guard that I only now recall seeing quite often had actually had an eye on me, not because it was suspected of doing something wrong but because I was interesting, and then said guard gets flowers from me. To give to someone. And then gives that flower to me!”

Brïs manages to stop laughing after Albion finishes, smiling so wide Albion wonders how his face doesn’t hurt after smiling so much. “You are so adorable.”

“The flowers?” They know what he means, but still try to deflect.

“Did I say the flowers?”

Fuck.

“I-I figured you meant that,” they admit. “I am not… that. I am ordinary.”

Brïs tilts his head slightly. “So?” he asks.

“So,” they say, “I don’t understand the interest.”

“So?” he repeats.

They don’t feel they’re ever going to get a satisfactory answer from him at this rate. At least, not today. Maybe not ever, but they’re going to at least try.

“You are strange.” Albion sighs. “You are very strange.”

“So I am.”

They again sigh, sitting next to him heavily. They again look at the flower he is still offering, and gently accept it, albeit begrudgingly. How had they managed to get into this situation? They weren’t necessarily going to say they disliked it, but understanding it was something they wished they could do. That was the part they disliked.

Brïs grabbed a fruit from the basket, offering it to the Winter Sidhe. “Falapple?” he asked, smiling as if he hadn’t just come into Albion’s life and completely rearranged it. They take it with no objection, opting to simply stare at it and the Grá flower they held, quietly contemplative.

After minutes of silence between the two, Albion spoke very softly. “Are you sure?” they asked, eyes closed.

“I gave you the flower, did I not?” He leaned down lower to the ground to better look up at their face.

“You have an important duty though. I have duties as well.”

“That does not have to change anything.”

“Won’t you not have time?” A pause, and even quieter, “I don’t know the first thing about… any of this.”

“I promise you,” he said reassuringly, “I have plenty of time. True, there are times where I’ll be out on expeditions, but it’s not common.”

“I still don’t know how to do this though.” They fiddled with the falapple in their hands, peeling it and tearing the shell into even tinier pieces until nothing remained. “I also don’t know exactly how I feel.”

“We just take it a day at a time.”

“What if,” they trail off. “What if… it’s wrong?”

Brïs frowned. “How would it be wrong?”

“Such as… incompatibility?” They open their eyes, frowning back at the Summer Sidhe. “I mean, we’ve hardly known each other very long at all. Or maybe I ask too many questions all the time? Or any number of reasons that I’ll come up with if you’ll give me a moment?”

He smiles and laughs, but it isn’t as boisterous as his other ones have been, it’s more subdued. “I’m sure you’ll come up with a hundred more if I give you enough time.”

“I could come up with countless if you give me enough time, yes.”

“But I just need one.”

They give him a quizzical look. “And that one is?”

“I find you so interesting.” He goes from gentle to mischievous in an instant. “Along with being adorable and sputtering when given any amount of affection.”

Albion pushes him farther from them, turning away indignantly. “I am not adorable. And I am not capable of feeling as intensely as your kind do, so any affection feels the same regardless of amount to me.”

“Fair. But you did sputter there for a little bit.”

“That was a fluke.” They throw the peeled falapple at him, which he dodged easily.

“A fluke you say?” he repeats in disbelief.

“Yes.” They fold their arms, frowning.

“And you’re not curious to see if it is just a fluke or not?”

“I am very curious,” they mutter under their breath.

“So let’s say that’s your curiosity. And let’s just see what happens. Again,” he says with a smile, “a day at a time. And if you decide it’s not worth it, I understand, and I will no longer bother you, as well as if I’m no longer interesting to you.”

“Well…” They take a long look around them, at the lake, the flowers, everything. After this, they look at Brïs. “If every day is as… interesting as this, if this is common with you, I don’t see myself losing interest anytime soon.”

“Well,” he chuckles, “I hope I keep myself interesting then. Do you agree to find out together?”

They reach to grab another falapple from the basket, but Brïs is quicker, and hands one to Albion instead. They quickly peel it and shove it in their mouth in an effort to earn them enough time to think over their answer. As they eat the fruit, however, there’s the sensation of the sudden popping of their jaw again, and slowly they turn to meet his gaze, as he’s trying in vain to keep from laughing.

“Yes?” he asked with all the innocence of a killer caught red handed. “Oh yes, I suppose something else I should mention is that us Summer Sidhe are quite fond of, ah, jokes. As said before, I hope I keep myself interesting.”

Albion maintains eye contact the entire, tortuous time the fruit remains before dissolving, enduring every moment of painful popping. The moment it does, they say, “I accept.”

“Thank you.” It is genuine, without any hint of the humor that was there moments before. He seemed happy. Not playfully so, but deeply.

Albion continues, poking him hard in the chest, “I should hope, however, that you don’t accidently poison me with flowers in one of your little jokes, yes?”

“I trust you to know that stuff. I’ll keep track of the other stuff, but when it comes to flowers, I’ll expect you to know that, Mister Flower lover Albion.”

“I should hope you would leave that to me, given my knowledge on them.” There’s a hint of pride in their tone.

They spend the rest of the afternoon in relative quiet, exploring through the portal the Summerlands, Brïs showing Albion lots of places that he knew well. Before they leave, Albion gathers as many of the flowers as they can carry in their basket.

“Let’s be on our way then,” Brïs says once Albion is finished. “I gotta get back to work.”

They turn longingly at the flowers.

Brïs laughs. “You grabbed as many as you can, you’re stuffing that thing to full!”

Albion sighed. “They are very pretty though.”

“They are,” he agreed.

They hesitated a moment, not wanting to leave, but they could keep Brïs here any longer either, and there was no way they were wanting to travel alone through here back into the city, no matter how short a walk it might be, not when there were dangerous things lurking in the dark.

“I suppose I can come back here, once these are gone?”

Brïs nods, “I fully intend on bringing you back here, if you’d want to. It is quite dangerous if you’re alone out here, and though I’m sure you’d manage fine--”

“No, no that’s fine, I’d like to come back again, yes.”

“Okay then.” He started on his way, looking back to ensure Albion was following. “I’ll take you home if you would like, before I have to head back to work.”

“If you could.” Albion smiles a bit.

They make their way back into the city, not another word between them until they get back to the door of Albion’s home. Brïs waits a moment, before asking, “See you tomorrow?”

A nod. “Tomorrow,” Albion agrees.

“Goodbye Albion, see you tomorrow. Sleep well. Try not to let the...” he stumbles over his own words for a moment, “flowers… get you…” He laughs, and Albion isn’t sure if it’s because that’s what he meant to say, or if it was to cover his own mistake of words.

“And I hope you don’t find any mysterious flowers in your flapples next time you eat them.” Their completely blank expression while saying this only caused Brïs to laugh more.

“I hope I do,” he grinned. “Maybe I can give some of them to you.”

“Oh that would simply be delightful, just look at how overjoyed I am.”

“Absolutely.” Another round of laughter, and he gave a final wave as he went off to his patrol route.

Albion stared after him. They had no idea what they were doing, or why they were agreeing to doing this other than the thrill of finding out exactly what could happen, that innate curiosity always tugging at them. They still aren’t sure why Brïs thought of them as someone who could be more, but as they stared down at the Grá flower they still held, they wondered if maybe that was okay. After all, they were taking things one day at a time, and you could learn a lot of things in a day's time.


End file.
